


Hot Off the Presses

by slantedsunlight



Series: The Ski Lodge Verse [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Betty is in charge and we are all okay with that, Editor betty, F/M, Mostly just an excuse for sexy time, No Murder AU, School newspaper setting, Sexy incentives, Writing is hard and I feel for Jughead, especially Jughead, not much plot here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 05:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12787875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slantedsunlight/pseuds/slantedsunlight
Summary: Jughead is struggling to finish an article for the Blue & Gold, but luckily his editor knows exactly how to motivate him.





	Hot Off the Presses

**Author's Note:**

> This snippet takes place about a year after the events of Needing/Getting, but can be read as a stand-alone PWP. I wanted to give you guys the steamy scene we all hoped for in N/G, and who can resist more of school newspaper Bughead? Let me know what you think! <3

Jughead looked up from his laptop to find almost complete darkness in the dusty classroom-turned-headquarters of the _Blue & Gold. _ He had spent all afternoon attempting to chip away at an article, only noting time as a countdown to his looming deadline, until he’d lost track of his surroundings. This was probably the latest he’d ever stayed at school, barring those few weeks he’d slept in the janitor’s closet. It was chilly too, he realized, as he shivered in his denim jacket. Dragging his attention from the screen, he leaned back in the squeaky desk chair, rubbing his eyes and cursing himself for choosing a weekend of video games with Archie over writing. But the article topic was beyond banal, and the words just weren’t coming, then or now.

“I hate writing,” he announced aloud.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Juggie,” Betty said from behind him. Spinning around in the chair, he found his girlfriend leaning in the doorway. “We go to print in nine hours, and it’s going to be awfully difficult to find a new reporter on such short notice.”

Jug fought a smile, mock-glaring at her as he spun back toward his computer.

“You wouldn’t dare replace the finest reporter this paper’s ever seen,” he teased.

He felt her arms go around his shoulders from behind, and she pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek.

“You’re right, I would never,” she said softly. Jug turned to pull her into his lap, resting his face in the crook of her neck.

“Maybe you should,” he admitted, his lips brushing her skin as he talked. “I don’t think I can finish this piece-of-shit column on the evolution of the school mascot. I’m not fit to serve your paper.”

“ _Our_ paper,” she reminded him. “And you seemed jazzed about it when Principal Weatherbee proposed it.”

“That was before I knew the ‘history’ of The Bulldog,” he said, pulling back so she could enjoy the full effect of his eye roll.  “There’s only been two changes to his iconography since the school opened, and both of them were to make him look _meaner._ It’s a real Panama Papers exposé in the making.”

Betty huffed a laugh and stood again, making Jug whine at the loss of contact - until she settled back down, straddling him with a sly smile. “Maybe you just need some motivation.”

The heat in her eyes sent sparks dancing through him. Sliding his hands up her waist, he smirked. “My work ethic could definitely use a boost. You gonna pay me by the word, boss?”

Betty leaned in and pressed her mouth to his, teasing him with a flick of her tongue, but pulling back before he could deepen the kiss.

“Five hundred words, right?” she breathed into his ear, fingers sliding into the hair at the back of his neck.

“Right,” he answered, voice going low and unsteady as she nipped his earlobe, “and I’ve got 200 down so far, mostly fluff.”

“The whole article is fluff, Juggie. That’s the point of the piece.” He was having trouble focusing on what she was saying, transfixed with the hot kisses she was trailing down his neck, each one warming him a little more. “If every article in the paper was hard hitting journalism, the student body would get depressed, or more likely, bored.”

He got his hands under her shirt then, roaming the warm skin of her back, pressing her closer. “Bored? This is the sexiest paper I’ve ever worked for,” he murmured, hardly listening to what he himself was saying.

She giggled a little, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth as he grinned, but then she was gone, all heat and softness dancing out of his reach, and he gazed up at her with a petulant scowl.

“Second paragraph needs stronger support.”

She had tugged his laptop toward her, and was shuffling through his notes, all business. “You can bolster that with this interview with the school librarian, that’ll be good for at least 100 more words.”

Still dizzy with unsatisfied lust, it took Jughead a moment to catch up.

“Can’t we just-”

“Nope,” she said, resolute and completely unfair, in his opinion. “Finish the body first.”

He resisted the urge to waggle his eyebrows at that, but only because Betty was leaning down again, to whisper in his ear just what he would get if he followed orders.

When she stepped back, arms crossed and watching him with a coy smile, Jug had to focus on breathing for a moment, the sound of blood rushing through his ears on the way to his dick the only thing he could hear. Then he tugged his beanie down, pulled his laptop back, and got to work.

 

In ten minutes he was hitting the final keystroke to end his fourth paragraph, and he leaned away again, amazed at how quickly the piece had suddenly solidified.

“Betty, you’re magic.”

She glanced up from her phone and smiled, turning to read his new draft.

“See? There’s the writer I know and love.”

Before he could reply, she was kneeling between his legs, her pleated skirt flowing down to skim the linoleum. Jug couldn’t help himself, lifting a hand to brush over her flushed cheek in reverence as she unbuttoned his pants. They had been fooling around for months, and had finally graduated to sleeping together more recently, but the excitement was fresh every time, the thrill of being with Betty Cooper never wearing off for him.

And then there was the view of her now, on her knees in front of him, working a hand around his erection with such a focused expression that he had to tilt his head back, reaching for the threads of his composure, and praying he’d last an appropriate, unembarrassing amount of time.

When she licked her way around him, sucking him into her mouth, he swore under his breath.

She was as diligent at sex as she was at anything, her drive to be the best just as fierce. Like the clever detective she was, Betty was quick to notice his reactions, cataloging the sounds he made and the way his fingers gripped at her hair, perfect ponytail going messy as he drew her in. The swirl of tongue that made him shiver, the act of swallowing that had his hips jerking, a succession of “sorrys” tumbling out of him when he pulled her hair; each part was recorded and then used to drive him crazy, in ways he wished would never end. But the feel of her pretty blue eyes burning hot into his from below was enough to send him over the edge, coming undone.

Going boneless, Jug slumped back in the chair, breathing hard into the cool air of the classroom. Then he reached for her, and Betty climbed into his lap again, where he breathed thanks and praise into her cleavage.

“Juggie,” she murmured, after a prolonged moment of cuddling.

“Hm?”

“Your conclusion needs reworking.”

He snorted. “You’re the toughest editor I’ve ever worked with, Betts.”

“I’m the only editor you’ve ever worked with,” she replied, amused. “Plus, we go to print in-” she checked her watch, “eight hours.”

Sighing dramatically, Jughead nevertheless released his hold on her.

She stood, pulling the tie out of her hair to comb through the mess with her fingers, while Jug buttoned up his pants and reluctantly rolled back to his computer.

His own words swam before him, brain still fuzzy on endorphins, and he sighed again. “Any tips for the conclusion?”

Pulling on a cardigan, Betty appeared to think it over.

“Add in Weatherbee’s comment about potential changes for The Bulldog next year, and leave the possibility open to student opinion. It invites conversation.”

Jug quirked a brow. “You mean the casual comment he made when he suggested the story -- totally off the record?”

Betty smiled knowingly and came to stand next to him, where she opened something on her phone. Jug took the opportunity to hook an arm around her legs, enjoying having her next to him. She handed him the phone without comment, clearly bemused.

On the screen, an email chain between herself and the principal offered consent to use the comment in question. The time stamp was from only 45 minutes before.

When he looked up at her, incredulous, Betty winked at him.

“I want your 500 words on my desk in half an hour, okay?”

“I want you on the desk after that,” he quipped back.

“Deal,” she said, and they shook on it, like true professionals.

After all, they had a paper to run.


End file.
